


optative baby steps

by crystallizedcherry



Series: From South, with Hope [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, Time Skips, slightly historical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 07:44:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4697906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystallizedcherry/pseuds/crystallizedcherry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Through years and decades, only eyes met eyes. Then when Australia approached her, he was aware of the fact that she was not a broken jug patterned with chinoiserie anymore. Vietnam was a warrior, in her own way of moving on herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	optative baby steps

Annually, there always be a meeting for those personified countries. First time she attended one, when she was fully recovered from domestic turmoil, was five years after her country's unification, and of course, he, was just like usual, was there too. Eyes met eyes, but not with words. He found no scars seen as far as he could observe.

Of course, he cared for her. He had come to her homeland to fight years ago, yes, but even after he had dragged his feet with blood of his defeated troops in hand and the ruined wound on his nose, he still thought that she deserved the attention she needed.

She was not a scary nation-in-human-form, she was just like the others. Black past, rainbow memories, the pretty land reflected in her onyx eyes filled also by potential attractions, she had everything. Just having a difference in her people's system didn't make her a monster everyone should fear of.

And in that occassion, he breathed out fine finding out that she had Thailand, Taiwan, and of course, China. The eldest of them all. Also, Russia as her back-up, sometimes.

* * *

 

Years by years, only eyes met eyes. But it was fine at least for Australia, as he had not found anymore: the woman he had used to spot contemplating and sometimes hissing while holding her head somewhere in the corner of crumpled wooden building with bloody and rusty weapon in hand.

Vietnam talked in casual way with Taiwan, and it looked like fine and world was at peace just by assessing her face. Australia only knew her on her most dark days, and he thought that he should go to France asking whether she had had this kind of personality back then.

It felt fine.

So fine.

What was cold war which the air was filled by the tension? He didn't wish his energy to be drained by thinking current situation, the Southern Continent only held the knowledge that her land was at peace, not flooded by blood of people demanding for independency anymore in his mind.

She was bathed with sunshine, gradually, he could foresee it.

* * *

 

"Oh, sorry."

So polite, and he had firstly thought that it might have  been Liechtenstein or Hungary in her good mood—but nothing was true.

Papers were scattered on the floor—not his, note that—Australia turned. Being in England's house for years had him being affected by the nature of gentleman England had always brainwashed his surrounding to have (in a positive term, indeed).

"—Sorry too—" and now, eyes spoke with eyes.

"... It's fine. You may leave."

He pretended not to hear and busied himself collecting the remaining papers although there was a little fight of paper tug-of-war when he was stubborn to help while she was also persistent as well.

Australia chuckled when they were back on their feet at the same time, "Where are you going to? The meeting room is over there," he pointed with his thumb over his shoulder.

"China is still in his room. I have to give him these files ... before the meeting," she didn't lift her gaze to him at all.

Had she not troubled by arranging the document, he bet, she wouldn't spare any seconds with him now.

"You can ask for Hong Kong or Thailand's help ..." he smiled, practicing what England had (forcefully) taught him, "I rather don’t feel comfortable seeing woman walking from corner to corner only to meet a man."

_Good job, Jett, your brother must be proud of you. How many points I got, Big Brother Arthur?_

He swore he heard a tut from her. Though her stoic face almost proved nothing to him related to that not-so-gentle manner, he expected from such a 'Vietnam'.

"We should respect the elders."

Awkward silence ensued. He puffed his cheeks, trying to stifle a laughter, "... elders ..." and suddenly he felt so guilty for making fun of her 'dearest' big brother—

—until he realized that she masked half of her face with the papers, and he, proudly said in his heart, would gladly damn everything if he was told he was wrong from hearing her laugh.

"'Kay. Do your obligation. Be careful, watch your way."

She didn't reciprocate even though he tapped her shoulders before she left.

But he knew she glanced by the corner of her eyes when he turned his head once again watching her steps.

Not bad.

* * *

 

He was fine, though, with only formal talk with her whenever their own countries had things to do together. She was finefinefinefine and growing, he witnessed, and it was utterly okay.

He did the same thing for years (decades, centuries, even, though the latter had been carried out with him standing behind England) with another nations, but with her, he considered it better.

Years were going fine, with the scars of past had been fading away.

Yes, she grew. She moved on. Vietnam was blooming. Had gotten rid every remaining pieces of glass stabbing her caused by one of the great wars world had ever faced.

* * *

 

Another new, twenty-first century's meeting was held near the new year event in New York. America rented a resort specially for the attendants, _y'all should spend the new year with me! We will make barbeque and have a fireworks feast!_

He spotted a hole in usual Asian gang, who were sitting around a round table with oriental menu one of America's state had served. Australia left New Zealand and Tonga and Canada, something more important than arguing whose better in taking care of sheep was in his mind.

Just like what he had thought first; Vietnam was standing by a small pond in the left wing of the huge place. Eyes fixed on the empty water; bet that she must be thinking of lotus back then in her house.

"Not hungry?"

"Ah—" she looked like startled, taking steps back but regaining her composure in no time. "Have got my stomach full by the ricecakes China made before."

It was so amazing just to see her talk like he was her usual acquaintances. He knew it might be too formal for everyone here's standart, but it indicated a signal that she was fine—

—yes, so _fine_.

Then why did he treat and consider her like she was a once-broken jug patterned with chinoiseire and would soon shatter again since she was too damn fragile?

She was strong, he should bear that in mind. Forcefully.

"Um, you know, being together feels warmer than being alone."

"But I can find peace in cooler place."

Australia chuckled. "Then, so, yeah, an addition of one person wouldn't burn you, would it?"

She was smiling for a second, he saw it. A small curve, in fact, but it was far more better than anything he would gladly fo receive for now, for sure.

"You have your siblings to have a conversation with."

"And so do you," he reciprocated.

And just like years and years they had passed, his eyes found hers once again. It was amazing not to find vengeance and hatred and anything bad in her eyes even though he was aware of the fact that he had been one who sculpted a scar on her skin; though small one.

"For me, uhm, yeah, bickering is sometimes boring."

"And you won't get anything better than it from me."

Australia raised his eyebrows. "New person to talk to will open your mind and perception and ... refresh yourself. I am sure of that."

And Vietnam pursed her lips a little, "... am I new for you?"

"No—not like that, I mean—ouch, don't misinterpret—"

Her sliver curve of lips—fade smile—not only stopped his words, but also his searching eyes.

(And his world.)

"What do you want to talk about? If it will benefit us as nations, I would like to please you with things I have knowledge of."

He giggled, scratched the back of his head, "I heard that you are so well in farming especially in Southeast Asia, beside your sibling, Thailand. Give me any secret you have? I want to compete Kiwi in livestock field, ha ha!"

Vietnam shrugged, leaning on the fence of the small bridge. "No secrets, actually. My people in that field just do things that please them. Farming paddy means giving a lot of people what they need the most in their lives. Feed them. The sincerity of doing so gives farmers spirit to keep doing efforts. It will result the best for the commodity."

"... Such a humble ...."

"Don't sugarcoat your words. It is reality."

"It's nice! So it is our task to encourage them too, right?" Australia encouraged himself to stand beside her, not too far for her low voice but not too close for her who, he learnt, was a type of woman who wasn't really fond skinship.

Her eyes faced the sky. "Yes."

The sky was so grey it signaled the pinnacle of winter, yet he found it was so clear and tranquiling.

* * *

 

Next year, accidentally they sat next to each other, just because Australia stepped into the meeting room too late, yet fortunately a seat went unoccupied beside her, who was near in the corner, opposite to Germany, the leader of this meeting.

Only simple dialogues occured. And when they were dismissed, she only bid another simple goodbye and went to different floor—they were separated three levels, he eventually learnt.

But he was glad ...

... that she had shared the same amount of chit-chat time between with him and Thailand.

Not to mention the way she adressed or talked to him, even slightly cold (her nature, he believed it), it would not hide the fact that she cared.

She cared for him. Even a bit.

Oh. Australia didn't even realize that he was rather calm and quiet and looked pleased all along his way to his room, with a cloud in his mind fulfilled by unknowing feeling and he was suffocating a bit.

* * *

 

"Hey."

A prom. France's house. Wine was everywhere. And Australia accidentally found Vietnam roaming around the kitchen, after he had done with his business in toilet.

"Oh, you," she only glanced for seconds.

"What are you ...."

"Got it."

He furrowed, "Orange juice?"

She moved swiftly, thanks to her knee-length green gown, to reach for a glass hanging on the top of counter. "I can't hold too many liquors. Last time I took several sips, Taiwan should handle my bad moodswing for the next four hours after the hangover."

Australia blinked. He tried not to laugh but it was a failure. She looked like angry only by looking at her straight-line lips, but he quickly reconciliated, "Not that it is bad, though. I just imagined how was ... your hangover—ouch, sorry!" Australia reacted fast with hiding behind the door connecting the room to the backyard, only peeking a bit, when she acted like she was about to throw the box along with the glass.

"Just pray that you would not face that, moron."

He stopped blinking.

She had never showed any foolish anger like that ... if we talked about her dark days of war then it would be in a whole different case. Her anger back then had been something fickle. Sometimes she had been in North side, she would run towards his and America's troops with determined face, but when she had been in South's side, rather calm she had been.

And the recent was ... cute.

He would be damned if he voiced it out loud.

This was the first time, he recorded. It felt like ... she had just lifted a curtain only for him.

(Don't know whether she did this with the others especially her closest neighbors and siblings and mostly, Taiwan, but, for him, yes, **_him_** , she did it only to ones she thought she was comfort with—

—he was confident enough.)

"Pour one glass for me, please?" he teased.

"Do it by yourself," still, she pouted, pouring the juice and throwing some ice cubes into the glass.

"Ugh, yeah," he took small steps closer, ready to snatch the box from her hand but she was more rapid in movement to get another glass. He was frozen on the spot. And by the time she handed the full glass, he didn't know which one was the best: giggling sheepishly or continue teasing (mocking, may he try?) her?

In the end: nothing. Australia needed her to snap him back to his world with her rather cold voice, "Go. You want it or not?"

"—Oh," he cackled, "'kay, thanks. Cheers for us?"

Vietnam was hesitated at first, but he assured her by enclosing the gap of the tip of their glasses, thus she nodded a bit and clanked what they held.

He walked her to the party again, with his hand sometimes on her back, reluctantly touching and caressing though not directly to her skin since her dressing was covering enough.

And she was not mind.

Best night.

* * *

 

This was why Australia hated a meeting held in a summer day. He preferred the night one, even he was not much of a midnight owl, unknowingly why. But why bother thinking of reasons? Most of this were boring, anyway.

The lift was stopped on ninth floor, revealing one attendant who soon would stop him from yawning for the umpteenth time.

"Gaaah, so sleepy," he leaned on the mirrorred wall behind him, tapping his foot on the slick floor. "Why do I even come, I guess."

"Well, we can't expect the best schedule for ourselves when we are not the host."

The answer lit up more candles in his cave of spirit. She was not that scary or cold like everyone's interpretation of her—

—oh.

"You are alone?"

"Taiwan left me. I fell asleep on the couch."

"I did too," he didn't want to step out in any time even the door had been split already. He slipped his hands in the pocket, "Almost. And thinking that Germany would blabber more about Eurozone than economy globally, moreover we are not in the area ... dammit."

He only took lazy steps after he realized she was waiting him outside.

"I wish I didn't wake up earlier."

He glanced. Eyebrows raised. Slight smirk emerged.

"I heard that there is a shopping center near this hotel."

He expected a yes from her way staring at her.

"An escape?"

"Why not? I am sure I am not really needed. They hardly spot me usually, even though Canada is worse in this case. Don't know about you."

"I do not even have any idea what they are talking about."

Hesitancy was burnt into ashes; he took her hands in his, "Let's go!"

She didn't let go.

* * *

 

They only spent time drinking coffee at the corner of the third floor of the mall, and since Vietnam was not a feminine type who would beg a man for something pretty or cute, he took her to a bookstore.

Vietnam refused his treat, but he eventually gave her a book of philosophy in economy.

Time was passed and filled by only small, rather formal talk at the cafe and they had indulged themselves at separated bookshelves in the store, he was more than pleased.

Australia only giggled when New Zealand asked where he had wandered away.

* * *

 

Australia was invited to a Southeast Asian nations' semi-formal meeting in her country, he excitedly accepted the invitation.

She was with Thailand and sometimes Indonesia or Laos, and he thought that Timor Leste was a best little buddy for him. He was not mind at all, being here with her at the same table was enough, so enough.

Vietnam came to him after they were dismissed.

"As an honorable guest too, you should not turn this down," his heart almost jumped to his throat listening to her demand, but he showed natural facade and let her to continue, "I offer you a short holiday trip to rural area of Vietnam as a bonus ."

Australia was so near to bursting into laughter when nodding.

Such an actress.

* * *

 

Vietnam was the host, she made sure everything was fine including the foods provided for her guests. She only made it into the train almost by the departure time, only to find that she had no mate in her seat.

“Sorry, but if you want to share one with me, I would like to!” Indonesia cheerily offered, while playing cards with Malaysia, Laos, and Philippines. Four seats were full. The nation giggled and patted the place precisely next to her body, but Vietnam didn’t look as pleased as Indonesia hoped for. Sharing seat? One for two? _Thank you_.

And the other four, occupied by China, Thailand, Kamboja and Myanmar, and looked like they were not too aware that their host was left behind. Australia was next to Singapore—another best friend of him, since England’s influence had been so intense on both at some period in the past—and opposite to Brunei also Timor Leste. Vietnam stared by the corner of her eyes, and sighed, only heard by the person sitting on her right. She shrugged, taking a place behind Brunei, _all alone was fine_ , she told Indonesia and Malaysia who were rather worried.

“Uhm, the song is good,” Australia unplugged the earphone Singapore shared with him, “I will purchase one later via iTunes. Thank you for the suggestion. I also like the singer, by the way,” and the latter nation only raised an eyebrow looking at the standing Australia. “Well, see ya!”

"A lady is not allowed to be alone," a small thud when he threw his handbag on the opposite seat, "if she is, then a gentleman around her is not truly a man."

"That must be a doctrine from England."

"But it works well, right?"

She faced the windows, hand propped on the frame supporting her chin. He kept the peace between them, until the train began to move and he tried to sneak, stealing attention.

"Where will we go?"

"You will find it later. Just enjoy the trip."

He ran a hand in his hair, chuckled just to find her turning her head to him in such a lazy manner and he expected an insult or something like the previous 'moron'.

"I will guarantee the trip."

"Will it be as awesome as you?"

She firstly didn't mind the words but when she gripped the meaning in head, Vietnam was left frozen—and Australia was amused by it.

"I'm not used to steal a person's favorite phrase, but I'll gladly borrow Prussia's trademark to use it to you."

She voiced nothing but he thought that he was the champion as a hue of red started to appear in short time after she shot back her gaze to the window.

Australia's effort was to be a good boy at this time. He kept waiting for her with playing some (boring) games his smartphone had. He preferred surfing in virtual world but the signal matter was hard while on the way like this.

The time he was totally lost his interest in the stuffs, was when her head fell onto his shoulder.

And the silent warrior was asleep, soundless, at utter peace.

Australia smiled. Took in the beauty beside him, tried hard not to move even just a bit even though he really, really wished he could enjoy her look as long as her sleep allowed him.

Even when the food and beverages was arrived and served fresh and warm on the table, he didn't want to wake her up—nor did he had appetite for his own portion.

Her hand limply laid on her lap. He noticed something on her palm, a fading scar not too obvious but acrossed from near her inner wrist to under her index finger, rather long but he was sure it was not so concerning anymore.

Australia couldn't resist the desire to touch her anymore. Slowly he put his own palm on her, it felt somewhat cold, and he imagined the warm of his skin could refine the skin once again. Could put everything back like how it had been. Could heal the dark past he once had affected her, had forced her to endure.

And he encircled his fingers into hers. Gripping onto her palm gently, embracing the feel of the not-so soft, slightly calloused hand of a warrior (surely he guessed that this was also because of the farming works she usually involved herself in).

The woman had been coming to his dreams for the past years, commonly after the annual world meeting even though they hadn't talked much, or even hadn't at all. For the first time, he needed more than talk and he realized, that he felt more than determined to have her look at him.

He had seen a lot of nations fall in love despite the real world and the people’s relationship, and it was fine, once England told him, when the two had witnessed America escaped a world meeting held in Zurich with Russia's little sister. They had human form, they were trapped in it, ones that would not grow old easily, and one of the consequences they had to bear was: to have affection they could not control to whom they would specially lay to.

"If you want to wake me up, don’t be hesitate to call me."

He was startled and drew back his hand but it seemed like she didn't let him—unknowingly why for him ... and he almost gasped looking at her eyes.

"... Sorry."

She released both of their hands, he felt rather empty and disappointed but, of course, there always been a point we should be thankful of, she didn't slap him for that.

She took the red apple, and her gesture was like, "Wanna some?"

He shook his head, nevertheless, and he could not fathom why he was wordless.

"Tell me, why do you choose me?"

"... Huh?"

"Me. Someone who had fought you in the past. Not-so rich country or someone pretty like, hm, Taiwan or Belgium."

A cackle. "Not every man is interested by look."

"I do understand it. Do not underestimate me."

He searched for her eyes. She seemed like contemplating, glued the shine of her eyes to the empty seat across her, he failed to read anything.

"Name your reason."

"You need it so much?"

She immediately shot her gaze to him he almost jumped.

"I need one if you want to continue your action to the further step. But if you want to be like this, I mean, static, don't bother yourself to do so."

Stalemate. _Don't mess up with the warrior_ , he noted to himself. She was very skillful in shooting with guns, back then circa four-five decades ago, and she knew how to feed people, and she was aware of the best way to deal with men, he added more to his encyclopedia of her. There would be more pages to be filled, and he was ready;

"I feel like ... I have obligation with you. I messed up with you back then—"

"I'm perfectly fine. With or without you, thanks to my people and my neighbors and ... more in the world who care enough."

"So you left nothing for me to heal?"

"Time cures, Jett."

_Jett ...._

It was reverberating. Loudly. Clearly.

"But there always be a fresh, new start for everything."

His eyes filled with twinkling stardust, as if a multicolor supernova had just blown up inside, if he were to describe it in the most silly way—at least for him—and metaphoric way.

He laughed this time, but one of his hands encircling her shoulder only to ensure her that the laughter was only a natural remark that he was glad and on his best mood, not for insulting her nor mocking.

"That's why I am interested in you! You are full of surprises!"

"Everyone is," Vietnam answered while taking a box of the brunch, placing it on her lap. She didn't let go, nor giving responses.

"Does that mean that I am, too?"

"Ask it to a mirror."

* * *

 

After fishing her meal, she did not talk so much. Australia had encouraged himself to spend the remaining time of the trip with those annoying games, but when she fell asleep once more, he suddenly forgot how low his expectation of her action had been.

On his shoulder she leant, in her hair he found a whiff scent of future.

**Author's Note:**

> hello, is this the first ausviet in ao3? haha i've been shipping them since found some fanworks in ffnet then i decided to open up the pairing's archive in this site. and, yes, mention of historical event: vietnam war, in which australia had involved himself in. plus, i believe in the headcanon of vietnam being rather infected by bipolar disorder when her country was split into two.
> 
> historical inaccuracy? feel free to correct me! and thank you for sparing your time reading this, guys. xoxo.


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